'Hey, Lia. Open your damn eyes!'

With clasped hands and elbows propped on the arms of his cushioned high-back chair, Alexander brushed the tip of his nose against his forefingers pointing upward with his eyes closed.

Thinking.

'A man wearing the emperor's brooch', he kept repeating in his head.

Brooches were not exclusive to the rulers of the land, but for such a small thing to be identified to belong to the emperor shouldn't be taken lightly. The only connection Alexander came up with was if the man worked directly under the emperor and if his job was important enough to be bestowed a brooch. If that was the case, then the poisoning and the attempted assassinations of Amelia weren't because of Vance's family's dispute.

Or maybe it's both? But why? He somehow understood Amelia's role in the plot against Vance, but the emperor? If anything else, they should direct their assaults toward him. And wasn't the emperor a friend of the late Duke of Osmea?

Alexander inhaled and exhaled slowly as he opened his eyes.

'Maybe the emperor had a falling out with Nathan. But why? What happened? If that's the case, maybe the emperor really had something to do about the fire. Even people on the streets would be able to piece things together like this.'

But who could confirm that for him?

The duchess' advisor would go about it in a roundabout way; the Duke of Aclador would be a great help but he doubted that he'd do so willingly. His Council of Elders—they came from all over the place and mostly people without titles. People who have not gotten close and personal with the imperial family.

Reignold.

If Alexander told him that he knew who did it, the Felfords' head would surely give him all the aid he needed. But how would he ask for help? He's not really the type of person to kneel before anyone for help.

"Your grace?" Jyver took his attention. "What would you want to do next?"

"Honestly? I don't know." Alexander stood from his seat and grabbed a cloak from the rack near the windows behind him. "I don't know if the Elders would be able to give me some form of clarity or if they'd use this information to their advantage. So, I don't know," Alexander shook his head. It's one of the rare times when he wished that his sister were around to talk to.

Maybe Symon's father could help him. He's a former secretary of the late duke, and their families have been closely tied to Alexander's. Surely, they must've passed down some knowledge to one another. And they're nobles, one way or the other, they've dealt with the emperor.

"But what I'm about to share is too sensitive," Alexander murmured, at a loss for what to do, where to go, or who to talk to. Then Vernon's name popped in his head.

Of all the people he's come across since all these things happened, Aclador's duke has been ever so calm about it. He's not too extreme as Vance or Reignold. He's silently observing like the lion he is. By now, the duke must've already gone back to his duchy, and it's the exact polar opposite of Alexander's. Almost two weeks of nonstop riding and he doesn't have that much time.

Frustrated, the duke marched to the stables and took his horse out, not knowing where he was headed.

**********

After some time slipping in and out of towns and the ports, Alexander settled to rest at a nearby inn he used to frequent when he met ladies asking for some action. It has food, booze, women, and intel.

"Alone today, your grace?" the innkeeper asked slyly.

"It's good to be alone sometimes."

"Bet the ladies are at woe. I've heard you haven't picked one for months. Looks like the rumors about the Duchess of Osmea's true, ain't it?"

Alexander scoffed as he leaned back, "I'll have my usual, Frank."

"She's a real charmer, ain't she? The duchess…" Frank's voice was low, but his interest was off the roof. His inn's popular being one of the nearest in the port, and his walls soak up gossip from everywhere. He's also one of Alexander's informants, but he came with a hefty price—paying only half of his dues to the duchy.

"You've met her?"

The innkeeper shook his head, "We've got merchants coming from Osmea and at least some of 'em would mention her. I happened to see her too though when my family went to Fayburgh in Osmea. They've got these beautiful falls, and my family loved it there."

"Really?"

"Ya. We might purchase a small land near there if we're lucky."

"And you saw her when?"

"Oh, when she was patrolling, I guess. Only saw her at a distance, but her hair wasn't something to be missed. My daughter thought she was a goddess with glowing hair or somethin'," Frank chuckled then turned away for a moment to grab his food. "Wine's in the house since you've come alone for once," he didn't forget to tease before he left with a grin on his face.

"So, what do think you of her? The duchess, I mean. Would she be a good duchess for Thuenia?"

"Ha! Why are you askin' me? I saw her. Did not talk to her."

"But you said you talked to some Osmeans."

"They barely mentioned their duchess and if ever they did it would be somethin' like how there's a new industrial project in the works at their Keep and so on and so forth. But if you really want her, why not go after her? To hell with the law!" Frank fisted the air, proud of his statement, before turning back from the duke to entertain another guest.

Marrying Amelia might be a selfish, greedy move but the most challenging part of it all is how to keep the balance of power once their union has been sealed. Now that he had the time to sit down and look at things from a bigger—wider—perspective, the emperor had a better judgment to decline his request.

The union of their duchies might instigate some dormant power struggle and actually start a war. There hasn't been a one for decades since the last one with Guvien and Toutis signing the peace treaty. And not just that… there's also the threat of Pradour joining the fray.

Deep in thought, the duke finished one glass after the other. It's not early to get drunk but that's not in his schedule today. When Frank came back, he had in hand an aged bottle of wine.

"I'm drinking too much today" he raised his hand even before the man managed to put down the bottle.

"Turning s new leaf for real this time?"

"Nah. I just don't want to be seduced by women who'd die just to bed me."

Frank let out a hearty laugh, "Well, the duchess wouldn't want that for sure." He raised both his hand and took the bottle back. After that, he glanced once more at the duke and shook his head, still smiling.

**********

A series of knocks felt like hammers hitting her head. Amelia pulled her blanket over herself, but the sound still seeped through. She wanted to sleep more. Of all the things scheduled over the days, there wasn't a night where she slept early. No time for dreaming even.

With a sigh, she tossed her blanket aside and sat up, brushing her hair away from her face. When she stretched, her face twisted. Every morning for the past few days, Amelia has also been training with Ancel, Arabella, and Christa without fail. And today would be the same as the others.

"Can I skip training today?" she muttered under her breath when she saw Constance behind her door, carrying fresh towels for her to use during training, with a smile.

The lady-in-waiting beamed even more and shook her head, excusing herself to enter the duchess' room. After placing what she brought on the foot of Amelia's bed, Constance went over Amelia's dresser to pick her clothes with the duchess slumped back on her bed.

Her body ached. Arabella had been ruthless, saying that she needed to be able to defend herself more than she used to. Then there's Christa. Amelia's thought she'd at least take it easy with her, but she turned into a different person once she stepped into the training grounds. Ancel was a little considerate, but he was a strict instructor. And while she performed all those muscle-ripping activities, her two remaining ladies-in-waiting drank tea at a corner or indulged in their threads and soft fabrics, occasionally smiling at her when they locked eyes.

Amelia sighed.

"You should get going before the sun's fully on the horizon." Constance reminded.

"It's still dark out. Not even a soul walking about in the hallways."

"The kitchen's open. And three eager souls are waiting at the grounds for you. Come on, up with you." The lady-in-waiting bent down and took the duchess' wrist to pull her which Amelia lazily complied.

With a grunt, Amelia let Constance pull and push her to her dresser after she came from the bathroom to wash quickly.

A series of greetings to whoever she came across made Amelia's throat dry and neck a little stiff from all the bobbing. Their destination? The inner garden. There's wide enough space in the middle of it for some light sparring. She was told that her mother used it for her tea parties and small gatherings, so it's been cleared in a circular pattern with stoned flooring that became a bit uneven over the years. And falling on it hurts.

A lot.

"You're late," Ancel noted when she came through the door.

"It's barely even sun up. There are no sun rays," the duchess whined.

"Nights are longer during this season. If it was any other season, it would've already been sun up." It was Arabella who stood up from her seat.

Even though the other ladies-in-waiting didn't know about the sibling's other occupation, they're aware of how well they fight. The two said that their grandfather, being the former Knight Commander that he was, drilled training into them at a young age. As for Christa, she wanted to be able to defend herself so her mother wouldn't worry so much.

Once settled, Amelia's training began.

Weapons training with the assassin siblings—swords and knives and how to defend given different circumstances such as having the hands tied along with other scenarios—and close-range physical combat training with Christa. At some point, the Marchioness' daughter told the duchess to put on a blindfold which Constance didn't fail to provide them with her handkerchief.

It wasn't a new way to train, but at the same time, it had been so long since she did something like it. Only being able to trust her hearing and her guts made Amelia feel a little antsy. But to add to the challenge, their spectators started making small noises and chattering loudly enough that she couldn't distinguish which was which.

Suddenly unsure of where she turned to last, the duchess' moved her head side to side to try and focus on Christa's presence alone but nothing. With the growing darkness starting to envelop her, she started to feel heavy on her chest. Her perfectly controlled breathing hitched little by little until it turned into quick gasps. Her head felt light, and she swayed a little, then the next thing she felt was her knees hitting the uneven stone and her palms on some grass that grew in between.

"Duchess!" she heard in unison then footsteps.

Amelia twitched and then her breathing became ragged and then labored. Her fingers clenched on whatever little it could grab. Footsteps and a lot of it coming closer to her. There were calls but she only heard herself breathing.

The darkness… it's suffocating.

"Lia, Lia…" the duchess heard faintly, then cold hands caged her face, "Open your eyes, Lia. Open your eyes. It's us. It's just us," the voice said, but Amelia could only see more darkness ahead of her.

"Duchess, open your eyes," another said in a whimper, probably Laila.

It's her ladies-in-waiting, Amelia recognized.

"Hey, Lia. Open your damn eyes!" a little forceful so it's definitely Arabella. She heard Ancel as well, and Christa.

"It's us, Lia…" the soft, comforting voice belonged to Constance.

When Amelia realized she knew who surrounded her, her breathing slowed down and soon enough she gained control over it, but it was still dark. It was only when she felt gentle arms around her that fog started to appear amidst the dimness and light gradually seeped through from somewhere until, with a squint of her eyes, the duchess saw her ladies' faces full of fret.

"I…" she failed to continue when she felt a familiar streak run down her cheeks. With the chilly wind coming through the slightly opened windows, it's clearly not sweat.

"It's okay, Lia…" her oldest lady-in-waiting whispered and embraced her tightly once more before calling out to Laila to go and ask for a freshly brewed tea. Ancel came with her, and they were out of the door in an instant. "It's okay, Christa." Constance turned to Christa who was on the verge of crying herself.

"I'm sorry for scaring you, Christa," Amelia held her new lady-in-waiting's hand when she stood up and they walked towards the tea table. Arabella followed them after she gathered all their things—weapons and all, they used for training. "This happens from time to time. I'm sorry if I scared you."

"I'm really sorry, duchess…" Christa bowed parallel to the ground, her snivels reached the other's ears.

"I told you to call me Lia. And it's alright. I've done that kind of training before for longer times even."

"You should rest for the day, Lia. Laila and I can deal with the trivial things, and Mister Vance will be there too—did you remember anything?"

"Not really. Your footsteps reminded me of the ones I heard when I was little." Amelia smiled curtly, then thanked Arabella when she felt her cloak on her back.

Gathering it about herself tightly, Amelia looked around and noted that the sun was already past the horizon. When the door opened, two maidservants followed her knight and lady-in-waiting.

"We brought fresh tea and some light biscuits. Breakfast will be served soon, so it's best for Lia to rest and get ready after this," Laila said, and everyone agreed.

----------

After their rest, Amelia indulged herself in a warm bath and went out feeling renewed despite the muscle sores. She quickly dressed in a casual long-sleeved blouse paired with a layered skirt to keep her warm. She let her hair down for a change and went out with her ladies all dressed for the day as well.

On their way to the dining hall, the duchess noticed a few carriages at the entrance through the window but couldn't see who they belonged to. It wasn't decorated, so probably someone from her duchy. A noble perhaps, or some businessman. Amelia didn't put much thought into it as she continued to walk to her destination.

Nearing the hall, a familiar voice took Amelia's interest and she turned to face the other way.

"Count Ratcliff," Amelia mentioned, and the man faced her. It's the emperor's secretary that she met when she was called to appear before Augustine. "I hope you brought good news."

The Count chuckled awkwardly, wiping his nape with the handkerchief in his hand.

"Warm greetings on a chilly morning, Duchess," he said, bowing quickly. "Could we talk… in a more private room?"

"How about you join us for breakfast? We're on our way to the dining hall. And it's warmer inside than by the door. Come…" The man looked at each lady before he pushed his handkerchief inside the secret pocket of his coat and walked with them.

The only sound present was the ladies' heels against the floor, the shuffling servants and their short greetings, and doors being opened here and there. Aside from those, there was nothing else.

Pushing the carved arched door, the knights saluted at the party and gently closed the doors a few seconds after the last lady-in-waiting entered.

"Would you like some tea? Hot chocolate? Some coffee?" Amelia asked once she was seated at the head of the table.

"Water would be great," the emperor's secretary bowed his head. "There seems to be a lack of servants?" he wondered as Amelia's ladies-in-waiting took over preparing the buffet and setting the table for them.

"After the poisoning incident happened, they've been setting my meals. My advisor used to do it but he's been occupied lately."

"Have the incident been resolved?" the Count slightly leaned forward for a whisper.

"Oh, the poisoning? Yes," Amelia lied with her head high. There was nothing to speak of since she killed the one who did it to her herself. "It has been resolved without much trouble." Amelia smiled curtly and thanked Laila with a little nod when she served her some warm tea. She's been drinking tea since earlier, but she had to calm her nerves.

"I see…" Count Ratcliff nodded understandingly. "That's good then. The emperor extended a hand to help you with it but always received a rejection."

Amelia scoffed lightly, "Well, you know, we might be lacking in some ways but punishing those who should be punished is certainly not one of those." The Count bobbed his head before fixing his cravat. "It happened in my duchy and has been dealt with accordingly. Send my thanks to the emperor. The gesture was comforting enough. Oh," the duchess faced the Count, pointing her finger to make a point, she said, "We did have some help. Alexan—I mean the Duke of Thuenia was generous enough to lend us a hand."

"Duke Clement? I've heard the news. He was poisoned too, right?"

"Yes, we both were. Though he had immunity to poison, and I didn't. I had to spend an awful lot of time resting. I was told that I was asleep for days. Lucky for me, we have befriended a doctor who's well-versed with the medicines and procedures from different parts of the continent, and possibly the world." It was both a lie and not. Amelia was told that she had to be drugged at some point so she could let her body recover completely, and the only way she managed to survive that was through a tube with a thin needle at the end. It was inserted under her flesh as a way to deliver the needed nutrients to the body. It's a foreign procedure done to her by her advisor's friend who was a traveling doctor, Dehstun. He was offered a princely amount for him to share his knowledge, but he'd rather travel than stay idle.

"A traveling doctor?"

"You could say that. I like to think of it as him learning new things."

"I see," the Count nodded, "I'd like to meet him someday too. I'm intrigued by your high praises."

Amelia picked up his teacup and bobbed her head as she blew lightly on it.

"How about… the rumors?"

Amelia perked up and stopped to stare at the Count. He's the first noble that's not from her duchy to ask her that. The duchess already practiced what to say hundreds of times already, but it slipped her mind, so she just smiled.

"There were rumors that you and the duke have been seen closer than you're supposed to."

"He's a childhood friend—though memories of him were amongst the ones that I forgot a long time ago. I find it natural to be close to him, no wonder I felt something different when I saw him again for the first time at the Gathering."

Confused, the Count repeated, "Childhood friend? Duke Clement? I don't think a childhood friend would kiss you out of the blue at the Gathering when you don't even remember him."

Amelia blushed, "I… well… that's a different matter entirely." She placed the cup back on the saucer without having a sip. "But yes, the duke is a childhood friend that kept me safe during the incident seven years ago."

"Seven years ago, huh…" the gentleman caressed his chin in contemplation, "I did hear about that, but I didn't know it was the duke."

"Coincidence, right? Must be fate." Amelia sounded peppier than usual that her ladies-in-waiting all looked at each other after she finished a sentence or two. In the back of their heads, they must be wondering what kind of sorcery someone placed on the duchess to make her act so out of character.

"Hmm…" was the only reply from the Count.